Living Without is not Worth Living
by SophieSaulie
Summary: A quick Bobby POV. Bobby wasn't handling Dean's death very well.


**Living Without is not Worth Living**

**Bobby**

Bobby was on his 5th bottle. He wasn't proud of it, but he couldn't stop himself. He couldn't drown out the pain fast enough before the alcohol wore off and it all came rushing back in a terrible wave of loss. He had never felt so much pain, felt so debilitated by the emptiness he was feeling, not even for his late wife. At least he could think of what had happened to her as the only way he knew of then to relieve her of her pain, her suffering. A realization that was helped along by the man he was grieving over now. What he was feeling was utter failure, of a surrender of a child, a son who didn't deserve the fate he had been given, who had been clear headed, brave and resigned to an eternity of damnation that he would have claimed was of his own making, but that in Bobby's mind should have had a loophole.

Many people make deals, some for selfish gain and others like Dean, for the life of another, but in his bloodshot, tear soaked eyes, Bobby could only remember a conversation where Dean had ached so much with loss that he had gambled his soul for the only family he had left, his only reasoning being that he couldn't let Sam die, that to leave his brother gone was just not an option, as if the world as well as Dean needed Sam alive. To Dean, it had been a simple and uncomplicated decision, a foregone conclusion. At first Bobby had been furious with him, but seeing Dean's pleading face as he asked Bobby to keep his secret, he felt a rush of pride and love for a man for whom he would have gladly traded places with if he could have. For Bobby it would have been just as simple and as uncomplicated a decision to make as it had been for Dean.

A part of him was glad not to have been there when Dean had been torn to pieces. He didn't think even his hardened heart could have taken seeing that, still, he would have done anything to have spared Sam from seeing it, but he knew that he couldn't have separated them even he had wanted to. Those boys, they were tied together by more than blood. Their bond had been forged steel until it had been severed by a merciless contract no man had the power to undo.

Another part of him wished he could have said one last good bye. He had tried to stay as focused and as unemotional as possible for the both of them, but it had been difficult. The only thing he could do was rig their car to keep them from sneaking off. He wasn't going to let them go it alone without him, THAT, he was not willing to do. It's what he should have done again to keep Sam with him, but he knew that Sam would have just found another way to escape him, to escape the memories, to drown his own pain alone like Bobby was doing. Only thing Bobby was afraid of was what would happen to Sam once the numbness set in, when he became impervious to the pain and hardened against caring about what happened to him. Who would rescue him then? Who would pull him from his despair and bring him back to his old self? Even Bobby knew he wasn't large enough to fill those shoes.

Oddly, as a man who had been single since the day he had buried his wife, he felt suddenly lonely and abandoned, left to grieve alone for what he knew would be for a very long time, maybe never to truly emerge from it whole again. Hunting had given him purpose when his wife had died, but now it was all he could do to wake up in the morning. Suddenly, the last thing he wanted to do was hunt. It didn't mean that he didn't feel revenge in his heart, that he didn't want to kill every damn evil thing he could lay his hands on to work out his grief and loss, but he was just too tired and worn out to try. The will that had driven him to hunt had died with Dean. Also, somewhere in his alcohol soaked mind he found himself worrying that if he killed any more evil, sent them to Hell as he had gladly done in the past, he would be subjecting Dean to more torment, that he would be sending down more demons to torture Dean. His hands shook at the very idea that he might aid in Dean's suffering there. The very thought kept him rooted in his empty house. He was paralyzed and suddenly the numbness that he had feared would immobilize Sam, he felt creeping into him. He felt his will to live oozing out of him and he was helpless to stop it. He took one last swig from his bourbon bottle and let unconsciousness overcome him, relieved it would provide the pain relief he so desperately wanted at least until he awoke again, wishing that all that had happened had been a nightmare, knowing that he would be sorely disappointed.

**FIN. Next it's Sam's turn and boy will it be angsty. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed it.**


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